


This Christmas

by HouDalWas



Series: Nuggetverse [3]
Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-07 21:19:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5471111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HouDalWas/pseuds/HouDalWas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of Christmas firsts for Ali & Ashlyn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Christmas Together

“So … what are your plans for Christmas?” Ashlyn asked Ali.

“I think Kyle and I are going to my mom’s this year,” Ali replied. “Nothing says Christmas like palm trees, right?”

Ashlyn laughed. “Absolutely.”

“What about you?”

“Oh, the usual Harris clan gathering. Grandma will make her famous mac n cheese, Chris will start an argument with Mom over something stupid, and I’ll end with a few beers on the beach.” She offered a grin. “Gotta love Satty Beach.”

“I’ll have to come see for myself someday,” said Ali softly.

Ashlyn chose not to respond, trying to hide her grin as she pulled Ali closer. Alone moments at camp were few and far between, and given that their newfound relationship remained a secret from their teammates, it was bound to stay that way.

They snuggled, actually watching the movie for once, although eventually all it took was one soft kiss against the corner of Ashlyn’s mouth to turn into a full-blown makeout session. They hadn’t gone much further than that, and they weren’t going to, not at camp anyway, but Ashlyn couldn’t deny she might change that, given the opportunity. Ali’s swollen lips, the dark whiskey of her eyes, the feather-soft touches she loved to tease Ashlyn with … they did things to Ashlyn.

Ali did things to Ashlyn, in a way that both thrilled her and unsettled her. There were a thousand arguments against it, and only one for it, but Ali was Ali and that outweighed everything else.

At least Ashlyn hoped so.

They’d quickly mastered the art of appearing normal, so by the time their other teammates returned to Ashlyn’s room, she and Ali were stretched out on separate beds, eyes on the TV and looking for all the world as if that’s where they’d stayed all night. (As long as Ashlyn kept the neck of her hoodie at the right angle.)

Several days passed before they got the chance to be alone again, this time an early morning walk to the nearest Starbucks.

“So I guess we should talk about this,” Ali said.

Ashlyn blinked, recalling the previous words out of Ali’s mouth. “If it’s going to rain? Um, okay. Well, it is cloudy, and it’s kinda dark over -”

“No. Sorry, I didn’t mean that.” Ali did this thing where she sheepishly ducked her head when she was flustered, and it was just about the most adorable thing Ashlyn had ever seen. “I meant, you know, this thing between us.”

Ashlyn shoved her hands in her pockets as they walked, contemplating her response. It shouldn’t have surprised her that Ali spoke up. After all, it had been Ali who had first remarked on their mutual attraction (“I just really like you, Ashlyn”) and Ali who had first kissed her (“If nothing else happens, I had to do that”) so of course Ali was about to determine whatever this thing was.

If there was one thing Ashlyn knew about Ali Krieger, it was what Ali wanted, Ali got.

“Camp is ending soon,” Ashlyn said slowly. “We may or may not be teammates.”

Ali reached over to squeeze her arm. “We will be. You’ll make it, I know it.”

Ashlyn grinned at the sidewalk before collecting herself. “You go back to Germany.”

“But I’ll be back,” Ali said quickly. “The holidays, and then January camp.”

“And then back to Germany again.”

Ali stopped walking, turning to Ashlyn and pursing her lips. “What are you saying, Ash? Have we just been wasting our time? You knew all along I’d go back to Germany. I just thought we’d … I don’t know. We’d figure it out. Because I meant what I said, I really like you, Ashlyn, like a lot. I’m not saying we have to put a label on this, but whatever it is, I don’t want it to end.”

She trailed off in a mumble, which Ashlyn found both endearing and annoying at times, but she was becoming well versed in interpreting Ali’s mumbles. Looking around to make sure no random teammates were in sight, Ashlyn stepped into the doorway of a closed shop and pulled Ali close by the waist.

‘We can Skype,” she began. A smile spread across Ali’s face, but she let Ashlyn continue. “Spend all our money on international calls. Go old school and write letters. Because I really like you, too, Als, and if this is the only way we can be together right now, it’s enough for me.”

“And Christmas isn’t too far,” Ali reminded her, beaming. God, she was beautiful. “We can get together while I’m here.”

Ashlyn threw caution to the wind and leaned in for a long, thorough kiss, loving how responsive Ali’s body was against hers and caring not one bit about the comments of scandalized passers-by. She grinned when Ali finally pulled away. “I always knew Christmas was my favorite holiday.”

~

Christmas wasn’t supposed to be like this.

For one, it was humid as hell. In both DC and Germany, Ali’s Christmases were at least usually cold even if not white. But Miami was warm and rainy, and that meant humidity, and in turn that meant Ali’s hair looked like crap.

For two, she wasn’t going to see Ashlyn. Frankfurt hadn’t given her as much time off as she thought they would, and so Ali only had time for a few days with each parent. Ashlyn had been sweet and understanding, which was a lot better than Ali herself was taking it.

“What’s up, Scrooge?” Kyle teased, dropping beside her on the couch.

“Shut up, Kyle.”

He gasped in outrage, holding one hand over his heart. “Alexandra Blaire! Your words wound me.” He threw an arm over her shoulder, pulling her close. “Seriously, bb. You’ve been moping around all day, even though your presents were clearly far more expensive than mine. Will you tell me what’s wrong if I dye my hair blond and take up soccer again?”

Ali didn’t reply. All those Skype dates, the early morning/late night phone calls, and yes, even the letters in Ashlyn’s loopy script - all they’d done was make her yearn for Christmas even more. She’d agonized over what to get her, dismissing present after present until she found one that said something she hadn’t yet been able to herself.

Ali Krieger was pretty sure she was in love with Ashlyn Harris.

Because that wasn’t something she could say over Skype (even if she didn’t have a shirt on) or over the phone (although that didn’t apply to shockingly dirty things, apparently). It was something she wanted, needed, expected – but not planned, not yet. It had to happen naturally.

And now she wouldn’t be able to.

“I just miss her, Kyle,” she finally said, softly enough she hoped her mom and step-dad wouldn’t be able to hear. The last thing she needed was Deb grilling her on the mysterious girlfriend-she-hadn’t-yet-called-a-girlfriend.

“Oh girl, you have it bad, don’t you?”

He didn’t need a response.

Ali tried to put Ashlyn out of her mind. Mike and Deb came in with hot chocolate and cookies, and they settled in for a lazy afternoon of Christmas movies. Halfway through Elf, Ali’s phone lit up with a familiar face, and she dashed out of the room, oblivious to Kyle’s teasing.

“Merry Christmas, baby!”

She could practically hear Ashlyn’s smile through the phone. “Merry Christmas, honey. Did you get spoiled?”

“No, because the one thing I really want is three hours away.” Ali carefully closed her bedroom door. “I miss you, Ash.”

Ashlyn sighed. “I miss you, too. This sucks, you know? You’re so close, but you might as well still be in Germany.”

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know, maybe I can change things and stop in Orlando before going to DC.”

“No, you can’t do that,” Ashlyn replied, but Ali could hear her reluctance to say so. “You only have a few days with your dad. Camp isn’t too far away. We’ll make it. We’ll be fine, babe.”

“Of course, but …” Ali hated the petulant tone she couldn’t erase from her voice. “I wanted to see you and I can’t and I just really miss you.”

“I know, babe. I know.”

Both girls fell silent. Ali wished she hadn’t been so whiny, but everything she said was the truth. She thought about telling Ashlyn what had been weighing on her mind since CONCACAF qualifiers, that with both the World Cup and the Olympics coming up maybe it was time to end her time in Frankfurt, that if the team did well maybe it would make the WPS a viable option. But she hadn’t completely decided, and until she did, she wasn’t going to breathe a word to anyone. So finally she settled on asking Ashlyn about her gifts, and they chatted mindlessly for another half hour until Ashlyn’s mom called for her in the background. After another round of saying how much they missed each other, they hung up.

Ali slipped back under Kyle’s arm in the living room, leaning her head against his shoulder. He squeezed her tightly, and she was grateful for it, but not a minute later his phone went off and after looking at it, he left the room.

“Mom! Can you come in here? I can’t find the …” Kyle yelled a few minutes later, trailing off into a mumble. Shrugging, Deb headed for the kitchen.

Ali managed to enjoy the next few hours, watching movies, reading a book she had gotten in her stocking, and even dozing off for a cozy nap. Kyle was fidgety to an almost annoying point, and she was willing to bet anything his secretive texts were from some new guy.

They’d just finished a dinner of leftovers when the condo front desk buzzed. Deb returned to the dining room with an amused expression.

“Alex, apparently there’s a package for you. I told them to send it up.”

If it was possible for someone to burst into smile, Ali did. It was from Ashlyn. She knew it. It was just like her to send a gift when she couldn’t be there herself. In the short span of their relationship, Ashlyn had already proven herself to be a fan of the romantic gesture, somehow managing to figure out how to send flowers and chocolates in Germany. (Secretly, Ali suspected one of her teammates, probably Nadine, was a co-conspirator.)

She parked herself outside the door, unable to wait, and Kyle followed, teasing her relentlessly.

“I bet it’s flowers. A bunch of red roses. Oooh! No! I bet it’s a singing telegram, one that matches the color of your eyes with something ludicrous. What rhymes with brown?”

The doorbell hadn’t finished a ring before she flung the door open and gasped.

It wasn’t flowers.

It wasn’t a singing telegram.

It wasn’t a delivery at all.

Tall and tattooed, Ashlyn stood in front of her, a ridiculously large gift bow on top of her head. She was beaming. “Merry Christmas, Als.”

Ali launched herself at her, wrapping her legs around Ashlyn’s waist and making her stumble backward. They were kissing and laughing at the same time, and Ashlyn spun her around before gently lowering her to the floor.

“Ash! What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to give you your present.” Ashlyn struck a pose with her hands out to her sides. “Tada!”

Ali looked her up and down. If possible, Ashlyn had gotten even more stupidly attractive since their last camp. “Mmm, I can’t wait to unwrap this.”

Ashlyn swallowed, glancing at the door that had somehow gotten shut. (Kyle, they would find out later, but only after he took a picture.) “In your mom’s house?”

Ali winked. “I hope you can keep quiet.” She couldn’t stop touching Ashlyn, running her hands up and down her arms, squeezing her hands, brushing her hair out of her face. “How are you here?”

Ashlyn pulled her in for a hug, and Ali breathed in her smell. Like everything else, it was better than she remembered. “When we got off the phone, I just thought, what am I doing here? You were only three hours away. So I asked Grandma, and she told me to go get my girl. Oh, and she sent cookies, but I ate a few on the way because I got hungry, and … why are you looking at me that way?”

“I just can’t believe you’re standing in front of me.”

Ashlyn shrugged. “I sent Kyle a message on Twitter, which was kinda weird since we’ve never met but a girl’s gotta use what tools she can find, right? And he talked to your mom, and here I am.”

“No.” Ali kissed her again, briefly wishing Kyle had warned her so she would have more on than sweats and a messy bun, then took one of Ashlyn’s hands in both of hers. “I cannot believe that you came all this way to see me, on Christmas Day. You’re so amazing, I’m so happy … Ashlyn, I love you.”

Ashlyn froze, and for an infinite heartbeat Ali was convinced she had ruined everything, but then Ashlyn grinned and there was that damn dimple and she took Ali’s face in her hands and everything was so, so right. “I love you, too, Alex.”

They held each other’s gazes for a moment before kissing again, slow and sensual. Ali wanted to do that forever, but eventually she forced herself to stop. “Best Christmas present ever,” she mumbled against Ashlyn’s lips, before turning her around and leading her into the condo.

Mike, Deb, and a Kyle who was beside himself with glee were waiting in the foyer. Squeezing Ashlyn’s hand, Ali pulled her forward. “Mom, Mike, Kyle, this is Ashlyn, my girlfriend.”


	2. First Christmas Apart

Bing Crosby crooned on the radio.

Ali wondered if the soldiers who had heard the song when it came out decades before felt the same longing she did now. True, it had been her decision to stay in Germany for Christmas. Her decision to stay in Germany entirely, actually, and thus her decision to -

Nope. Don’t go there, she told herself. That way lay nothing but hurt.

Instead she mustered a grin when Nadine walked up.

“This is a terrible song for a party,” the German goalkeeper said before proceeding to change it to something more upbeat. “That’s more like it. Hey Krieger, your drink is empty. More?”

Ali held out her cup. “I don’t know why, this stuff is horrible. What is it?”

“Hmm, it’s best if you don’t know. There. Will that put a smile on your face?”

“I am smiling!” Ali protested.

“Krieger, I’ve been cleaning up your messes for the past two years,” Nadine said, ignoring the wadded up napkin Ali threw at her. “I know when you’re faking it. Now talk to Auntie Nadine.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Natze, I swear. Maybe a little homesick, but that’s it.”

Nadine pursed her lips as she considered the younger defender, but she didn’t say what Ali figured she really wanted to. “If you say so. Try to have fun, Krieger. It’s a party, yeah? I know you like blondes, but there’s a redhead over there who’s been eyeing you all night.”

Ali flushed, pointedly not looking in that direction. Her friends had been after her to start dating again, and Kyle, due to arrive the next day, had promised to spend the entire trip to find her new love.

After all, Ashlyn had a new girlfriend.

Ashlyn.

Ali swore, took a huge swig of her drink, and swore again after she choked. She had promised herself she wouldn’t think of her, not today. It was too easy to remember her joy a year ago, too easy to remember the happiness that spiraled out of control, too easy to remember the harsh words after the World Cup, too easy to remember the last accusations they’d hurled at each other.

Ali chugged her drink and marched over to the redhead. She wasn’t Ali Krieger, World Cup failure and broken-hearted ex-girlfriend. She was Ali Krieger, world class footballer, free woman, and, she’d been told, excellent kisser.

Half an hour later, the redhead certainly agreed.

She wasn’t perfect, and Ali doubted she’d see her again after tonight, but she was good enough for the time being. When Ali excused herself to go to the bathroom and the redhead suggested they get out of there, Ali only had to swallow once before she shrugged and agreed. It was Christmas, after all.

In the bathroom, Ali splashed water on her face, trying to attribute the rapid pounding of her heart to the same reason a hickey was forming on her neck. She hadn’t had a drunken one-night stand since college, but she could do this. She needed to do this. She could either mope forever, or she could - she could …

She could what?

Ali remembered all too clearly their last communication. A friendly (and public) birthday tweet followed by an equally friendly (and equally public) response. Nothing else. Not long after, Ali had come across another picture with another girl and unfollowed her in a fit of wine-fueled pique (again). But it was Christmas, and last Christmas had worked a bit of magic for them. She could still hear Ashlyn giggling as they tried to keep quiet in Ali’s bedroom, knowing her mom was two doors down.

She could also hear Ashlyn calling her a coward on the stairs of her Rochester apartment.

And, strangely enough, she could hear Kyle urging her to go with the redhead.

In the end, last Christmas was last Christmas, and this Christmas was this Christmas.

Ali dried her hands and headed to tell Nadine she was leaving. When she found her in the kitchen, the woman who had become one of her best German friends threw an arm over her shoulders, smelling of beer.

“That’s the Krieger I love and know! Look at you go!”

Ali rolled her eyes before embracing her. “Great party, Natze. I’ll call you tomorrow? Kyle wants to do lunch.”

Nadine agreed before pointing at the redhead, who had already found her coat and was chatting with other partygoers near the front door. “Better go get your girl, eh?”

Ali smiled. “Oh, I am.”

~

Bing Crosby crooned on the television.

Ashlyn wished he’d shut the hell up. Being home for Christmas was not always the end-all and be-all, and right now she’d rather be nearly anywhere else.

Always one to wear her heart on her sleeve, Ashlyn was barely hiding her anger. She couldn’t believe the nerve of her - well, not her girlfriend, as she had introduced herself to Ashlyn’s family when she showed up, uninvited.

Who did that? Who went over to someone’s house on Christmas day without an invitation, without any care for the fact that they were spending the holiday with their family?

(Well, Ashlyn had, but that was completely different.)

And then, to introduce herself as Ashlyn’s girlfriend, which was news to Ashlyn. No one should use that term until it was discussed between the couple.

(Well, Ali had, but that was completely different.)

And now, here she sat, chatting with Chris and his girlfriend (his actual girlfriend) like she belonged. Like Ashlyn wanted her there.

At least Ashlyn’s grandma had gone home before Casey showed up. Only certain people were allowed to meet her grandma, and it had been awkward enough when Grandma wondered aloud over Christmas dinner how Ali was doing.

No, Ashlyn was not wondering the same thing.

Laughter brought her back to the present, and despite her annoyance, she shared a grin with Casey and didn’t pull away when she leaned into her. It was Christmas, her favorite holiday, and she wasn’t going to let anyone ruin it. After all, she was dating Casey, and it was nice to be dating someone who wanted to be with her, someone who didn’t run away halfway across the world the moment life got hard without giving Ashlyn so much as a heads up.

“Since when are you dating?” Chris had asked her earlier. “As of last week, I thought you were just ‘having fun and screwing.’”

She’d hit him in reply.

Anyway, not every Christmas would be as good as last Christmas, and not every relationship would happen as easily as her last one, and hopefully not every girlfriend would bail on her like her last one.

Dammit, Ashlyn, she told herself. If she went through life comparing everyone and everything to Ali freaking Krieger, nothing would ever measure up.

Shit. That wasn’t what she meant. Ashlyn jumped up, offering to get drinks for everyone and all but forcing Casey back into her seat when she tried to help.

Standing over the sink, she chugged a glass of water, trying to clear her head. Ali had a way of popping into her mind at the worst times, and it was getting really annoying. She poured another glass, determined to return to her brother and her girlfriend (and to get used to that idea), and have an awesome Christmas, free of any more intrusive thoughts.

She nearly threw her phone across the room when she saw the text.

_Merry Christmas, Ash._

“You have to be kidding me, Alexandra,” she muttered.

Two months of nothing, and she chose now to text her? And what time was it in Germany, anyway? Awfully late for Ali to be up and texting ex-girlfriends. What if she was drunk and would regret everything tomorrow? Or even worse, what if she didn’t even remember until she saw Ashlyn’s response and thought she was pathetic because at least Ali had the excuse of being drunk?

Or what if she meant it?

And just like that, it was easy. It was always easy when it came to her feelings for Ali, no matter how complicated everything else was.

_Merry Christmas, Alex._


	3. First Christmas Married

Ali was pissed off.

Ashlyn had years of practice navigating an angry Ali Krieger. She knew just what to say to placate her wife, especially when it was her fault. Ali could never stay mad at Ashlyn for long.

But not this time. Oh no, this time Ali could fume all the way through the holidays. Hell, she could pout until next Christmas for all Ashlyn cared. Besides, they'd probably have the same argument next year anyway. Might as well get a head start.

She could hear her wife in the kitchen, probably baking, Ali’s favorite stressed out activity. Well, not her favorite, but they certainly weren’t going to be doing _that_ at the moment. Ashlyn scrolled through her Instagram feed, refraining from liking every Florida-related post she came across. It wasn’t her nature to be passive-aggressive.

A wonderful smell began to permeate the house, and Ashlyn couldn’t stop a smile from tugging at her mouth when Ali returned, carrying a plate of warm cookies.

She snatched one as soon as it came in reach, groaning as it melted in her mouth. “Damn, babe. You know these are my favorite.”

“Of course I know,” Ali replied calmly, folding herself next to Ashlyn on the couch in a way that fascinated her wife. Ashlyn was pretty certain Ali would always turn her on no matter how upset she was. “Whoever decided to to fill sugar cookies with Nutella must have had you in mind.”

“Well, thanks. These are perfect.” Ashlyn ate a second, then a third, before turning to Ali with raised eyebrows. “So, is this your way of saying you’re sorry?”

The look she received in reply could have melted her into a puddle. “No. I wanted to make cookies. We had the ingredients for this kind. I thought you would like them. Is that not reason enough?”

Ashlyn took a fourth, swearing it would be her last. Double workout day, for sure. “It’s great, Als.”

Ali flicked on the television, flipping through channels until she settled on one of those house buying shows. Ashlyn waited.

One minute.

Two.

Three.

Fo-

“So, about what we discussed earlier.”

And there it was. “Yeah?”

Ali turned to face her, crossing her legs. “Have you thought about it?”

“I thought that I haven’t changed my mind.”

“Okay.” Ali ran a hand through her hair. “What about a compromise? We spend Christmas Eve with Grandma, take a late flight to DC, and spend Christmas Day with Dad and Kyle. Split it evenly.”

“And your mom?”

“I already told her we’ll come see her after Christmas. She can have next year,” Ali said with a sacrificial air.

Ashlyn took a moment to make sure her tone remained even. “See, Alex, it doesn’t seem like much of a compromise to me. I give up part of my day with my family to take a flight on one of the busiest days of the year, and you get to wake up Christmas morning with your brother, just like you want.”

“Not just like I want,” protested Ali.

“Oh, because what you want is to spend the entire holidays with them. We were at your uncle’s for Thanksgiving so I don’t see why it’s such an issue that we spend Christmas with my family.”

“We see your family all the time, Ash! We live here, in Florida, right by them, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“How could I, when you bring it up all the time,” Ashlyn muttered.

And just like that, the two hours that had passed since their initial argument might as well have been erased.

“Wow. _Wow._ That’s really rich, Ashlyn, especially coming from you. Moving back here is all you could talk about since the moment you heard Orlando was getting a team, and I’ve been nothing but supportive -”

“Supportive? How is it supportive to act like you’ve done me such an enormous favor all the time?”

Ali stood up, her voice rising. “I told you to go! I told you to talk to Mark and Tom, I told you we would be fine, I told you I would move as soon as I could. And here I am! So what else do you want from me?”

“Maybe if you acted like you want to be here,” Ashlyn shot back. “Instead of acting like leaving DC is the worst thing you’ve ever done.”

“It’s my home, Ashlyn.”

Ashlyn visibly recoiled. “Oh,” she said softly. “I’m sorry. I thought home would be with your wife. But hey, you know what? Why don’t you go to DC for Christmas, and I’ll stay here? Just like always.”

Ali’s eyes widened, and she sank down on the arm of the couch. “Baby, it’s our first Christmas since we got married.”

“And all we’ve done is argue about it.”

“We’ll stay in Florida,” Ali said quickly. “It’ll be nice to be warm at Christmas. I just - all I want for Christmas is you, Ash.”

Ashlyn returned her cheesy smile, but her heart wasn’t in it. “No, the last thing I want is for you to spend more time here than you have to. Go to DC, Alex. After all, it’s your home.”

She stood up and headed for the bathroom, leaving her stunned wife behind her. At the door, she paused and turned.

“You know what? Those years we lived there, DC was my home, too. Because you were there.”

Ashlyn took a long shower, trying to rinse her hurt down the drain. The transition hadn’t been easy for them, playing on separate teams in separate towns, but despite Ashlyn’s words to the contrary, Ali had actually been completely supportive from the start. Perhaps too supportive, Ashlyn realized, at the cost of burying her true feelings.

Ashlyn tried really hard not to think about when Ali had returned to Germany after the 2011 World Cup, when she herself had not been the most supportive girlfriend. This was completely different, she told herself. She had ended up following Ali, first to Germany and then to DC, and now it was her turn to be the hometown girl, her turn to be followed, and Ali would have to deal with it, just like Ashlyn had (eventually).

Ali was sitting in the middle of their bed when Ashlyn finally emerged, her knees pulled to her chest. She looked about twelve.

“Ash, can we talk, please? That thing where we lay facing opposite ends of the bed and talk over everything until you forgive me and start tickling my feet?”

“Not right now, Alex. Cory texted me. I’m going out.”

Ali sighed. “Ashlyn, please. You know I hate it when you go out ‘cause you’re mad. You’ll drink too much and when you come back we’ll argue again until you try to have drunk makeup sex with me.”

Glad her face was buried among her shoes, Ashlyn grinned despite herself. That might have been the most truthful thing Ali had said all day.

“In fact …” Ashlyn jumped when Ali’s hands slid over her back. “Why don’t you skip all that and we can have the makeup sex now? I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t mean it. You are my home.”

Why did she have to be so damn sexy with that purr in her voice and her fingers walking themselves to the places she most enjoyed?

Ashlyn steeled herself. “We’ll talk when I get back, okay? I promise. I won’t be late.”

Ali retreated to the bed again, watching Ashlyn dress in silence. “I love you,” she offered when Ashlyn was dressed, tilting her face up.

Ashlyn kissed her on the forehead. “Yeah, love you too.”

~

“Um, how ‘bout you stop going full stalker, bb?”

“She’s my wife, Kyle.”

“And you just said you called her three times and sent seven texts,” Kyle retorted. “Wife or not, blowing up her phone isn’t going to help anything.”

“She said she wouldn’t be late.” Ali paced up and down the hallway, phone pressed to her ear. “It’s one-thirty in the morning and she said she wouldn’t be late.”

Kyle sighed. “You are going to be terrible when you have teenagers. Alex, she’s with her friends, she’s having some drinks, she lost track of time, she probably can’t hear her phone. It’s normal and your pants are on fire if you’re saying you’ve never done the same. Chillax, sis.”

“I said terrible things,” Ali blurted out, running a hand through her hair. “I said DC was my home, I made her think I don’t want to be here with her, but that’s not true. She’s the love of my life, I would follow her to Antarctica if she wanted to live with the damn penguins, I’m going to have babies with her. I love her, Kyle, and she’s my life, wherever she is. You believe me, right?”

“First of all, Alexandra, you’re getting so screechy that Luna is whining. Calm down. And of course I believe you. More importantly, so does Ashlyn. Shit, Alex, anyone who has seen you since 2010 knows you two are crazy about each other. It’s disgusting. And since I was one of the lucky few to be at that ridiculously beautiful wedding of yours, I can personally vouch for the fact that you two are stupidly in love, it makes me sick, and I hate you, okay?”

Ali laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I love you too. But where is she, Kyle? She could be hurt, she could be -”

The front door slammed. Ali paused, spun around, and nearly slipped on her socks. “She’s home gotta go love you bye!” She hung up, running as quickly as she could without causing another ACL tear.

Ashlyn met her in the dining room, grabbing her by the arms to slow her down. She reeked of whiskey and her eyes were reddened as if she’d been crying, but Ali didn’t care.

“I’m so sorry I’m late, Alex,” Ashlyn began before Ali could say anything. “I swear I didn’t mean to, but we were drinking and talking, and I didn’t ignore your phone calls, my phone was on silent and I just now saw them, and I - honey, why are you crying?”

Ali brushed impatiently at the tears leaking from her eyes. “I love you, Ash. That’s it. I love you. And I’ve had too much wine.”

Ashlyn slipped her arms around Ali’s waist to pull her wife close. With Ali’s hands curved around the back of Ashlyn’s neck, they rested their foreheads against each other, slowly rotating without quite dancing.

“I love you, too, pretty girl,” Ashlyn said softly. “Can we have the drunk makeup sex now?”

Ali burst out laughing, swiping at a few remaining tears. Slinging their arms around each other, they headed for the bedroom. “Yes, but first, I have a surprise for you.”

~

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

“Merry Christmas, honey.” Ashlyn tilted her drink toward her wife. “Best wife ever.”

Ali smirked. “Not a terrible way to spend Christmas, is it?”

Ashlyn waved her hand at the deserted beach in front of them, all white sand and clear water and endless blue sky. “Skipping out on our families to get drunk and stare at my wife in a bikini? Babe, this may be the start of our first Krieger-Harris tradition.”

Sipping her own drink, Ali laughed. “I have absolutely no objection, but I think Deb and Tammye may have something to say when the grandkids come along.”

“Grandkids?” Ashlyn choked, spitting rum onto the sand. “Easy there, Als. One thing at a time.”

“I know, I know, but soon, right?”

Noting with some alarm the gleam in Ali’s warm eyes, Ashlyn took another long drink.

“But for now,” Ali continued, “I meant what I said: all I want for Christmas is you.”


	4. First Christmas with Three

Ali sighed. “Remind me why we didn’t go back to Martinique for Christmas?”

“Because Kyle whined and you love him more than me.”

Pushing her wife back, Ali laughed, straddling her lap. “Only a little bit more, baby.”

She kissed her, humming her approval as Ashlyn’s hands began to trace her curves. Forgetting her entire family was spread throughout her uncle’s house, Ali leaned in further and encouraged her wife until Ashlyn was tracing her ribs under her shirt.

“Oh my God. Ew,” Kyle announced his presence. “Like how often am I going to walk in on you this Christmas? That’s it, I’m taking my present back and giving you a hotel room instead because I refuse to sleep in the room next to you at Dad’s tonight. Ugh, gross.”

“She can’t keep her hands off me, sorry, Kyle,” Ashlyn said, gently removing Ali from her lap before giving her brother-in-law a cheerful smile. “I have a confession to make: your baby sister is a sex addict.”

Kyle put his hands over his ears, spinning away. “La la la la, I’m not hearing this, I’m not hearing this, I’m not - hey Al, where you going? I’ve heard worse things come out of your mouth.”

“Ha.” She made a face. “I’m just going to the bathroom. You two behave!”

The last words were thrown in haste as she hurried down the hallway. Ashlyn watched her go, frowning with concern. Ali had been making frequent rushes to the bathroom lately, and since she couldn’t drink wine, she couldn’t blame it on that.

“Behaving is so last year,” Kyle sang, sitting next to Ashlyn and throwing an arm over her shoulders. “Time for our annual Krashlyn snapchat! Smile!”

Ashlyn meant to question her wife on her apparent bladder problem, but they spent the rest of the day surrounded by family, and eventually it slipped her mind even as she noticed Ali looked pale. The two didn’t have much time for more than fond smiles across a table or a quick hand on the head as they passed, chasing one small Krieger or another. Ashlyn loved Krieger Christmases, with all of Ali’s cousins and their children. It reminded her of the own large family she and Ali wanted so badly.

By the time the last dishes were cleaned (even now, it never hurt for Ashlyn to earn brownie points with the in-laws), she was ready to find Ali and Kyle and head back to Ken’s for movies and hot chocolate with Ali’s step-brothers. This year, she vowed, she would make it through all of them without crying.

“Kyle,” she called, wandering through the house, “are you and -”

“Shh,” Kyle interrupted when she found him in the den. “Look at the precious.”

Ali was stretched out asleep in a recliner, a soft blanket over her and Little Allie, who was pillowed against Ali’s chest. Ashlyn caught her breath at the sight. Everything from the way Ali’s arms protectively encircled her small cousin to how much the two looked alike perfectly matched the picture in Ashlyn’s head of what Ali would be like as a mom.

“Kyle, don’t snapchat that,” she said when she saw him lift his phone, swatting his arm.

“How _rude_! I’m not.” He lifted his phone again. “I’m going to put it on Instagram.”

After Kyle carried Little Allie to her parents, Ashlyn leaned on the arm of the chair, rubbing Ali’s arm. “Honey, wake up. We’re ready to go.”

Ali yawned, giving Ashlyn a sleepy smile that was somehow both sexy and adorable. “Good, I’m exhausted.”

“I can tell. You sick, Als?”

Ali waved her away. “No, I’m fine. Just ready to be home. Help me find my shoes?”

They located Ali’s newest boots (a Christmas gift from her wife), and she had just slid her foot into the second one when she stood up straight, blanching.

“I’ll be right back.”

This time, when Ali hurried away, Ashlyn followed, making it into the guest bathroom in time to see Ali drop to her knees, emptying her stomach into the toilet.

“Babe!” Ashlyn knelt with her, brushing her long hair away from her face. “Why did you say you weren’t sick?”

When she finished heaving, Ali flushed the toilet and slumped against the shower, leaning her head back. “Because I’m not,” she said in a weary voice.

Ashlyn stared at her wife, furrowing her brow. The implications sunk in all at once, and she, too, slid to the floor. “Do you, um, do you think you might be …?”

Ali bit her lip. “I think so. I have for a while, actually.”

Ashlyn had to clamp a hand over her mouth to stop from whooping. “Alex! How long have you known?”

“A month, more or less.”

“A month? But that’s … Jesus, Alex, it hasn’t been much more than a month since the procedure.”

“Right,” Ali replied quietly. “But I just know. I knew last time, didn’t I?”

And suddenly, Ashlyn knew why Ali wasn’t excited. She managed to squeeze in between Ali and the wall, pulling her wife into her arms. “That’s not going to happen this time, okay? That was just - it happened and it sucked, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to happen again.”

“You don’t know that,” Ali whispered, her voice shaking.

And that was the kicker. Ashlyn _didn’t_ know. They’d been over the moon when Ali finally got pregnant - third time was the charm, right? - and had been so unable to restrain themselves to waiting the suggested twelve weeks to shout their news from the rooftops that they decided each could tell one person. Kyle, of course, for Ali, and Whitney for Ashlyn. And then, on the day Ali reached ten weeks …

Ashlyn took a deep breath to make sure her own voice remained steady. Ali needed her to be strong. “No, I don’t,” she admitted. “But you can’t think about that, okay? It’s like when you lost the World Cup, and then we came back and won it, but ten times bigger than that. We’re not gonna forget last time, but it’s gonna happen for us and we’re gonna be the most badass moms since Christie. I promise you. If not this time, then -”

“No.”

“No what, honey?”

“No next time.” Ali raised her head to look Ashlyn in the eyes. “If it doesn’t happen this time, there is no next time. I’m done, Ash. I can’t do it anymore.”

“Okay. Well, we have the money for another round. Maybe I could -”

“No, Ashlyn!” Ali interrupted. “I mean it. We’re done. I just can’t handle any more disappointment, baby. I’m sorry.”

Ashlyn swallowed, staring at the bathroom door even as her hand continued to rub up and down Ali’s arm, holding her tightly. The impulsive part of her wanted to argue with her wife, remind her that it wasn’t her decision alone, demand that if Ali wouldn’t carry their child that they give Ashlyn a chance. And then she remembered Ali sobbing on the floor of the bedroom they had already begun painting a bright, happy yellow. Remembered how Ali had felt like her body, something she had always been in tune with, always relied upon, had betrayed her in a way that broke her heart more than 2012.

“Alright, Alex. Alright.”

Wrapped in each other, they sat on the cold tile floor until Kyle came looking for them. If he noticed his sister and sister-in-law were exceptionally quiet on the drive back to their dad’s, he didn’t mention it.

When they pulled into the driveway, Ashlyn stopped Ali from shutting off her BMW. “Hey, Kyle, we have an errand to run. Tell Ken we’ll be right back, okay?”

He looked from one to the other. “Everything good, bb?”

Ali just nodded. “We’re fine,” said Ashlyn. “Tell the boys not to start Elf without us.”

They were well down the road before Ali spoke. “Where are we going?”

“To get a pregnancy test. Not that I don’t believe you, but I’d like to see that little positive sign. Then I’ll make you a doctor’s appointment on Monday.” She reached over and squeezed Ali’s free hand. “It’s going to be fine, babe.”

What wasn’t fine was that neither had remembered how many stores were closed on Christmas Day. Wal-Mart, Harris Teeter, Walgreens, even their ever faithful Target - all were dark and shuttered. They’d been driving for half an hour before they finally saw the lit sign of a CVS. Ashlyn ran in and bought five tests (all different brands, just to be sure), ignoring the looks the teenage cashier gave her, and they returned to Ken’s in near silence.

“Just give us a few minutes!” Ashlyn called to Ali’s protesting brothers, pushing her wife into the upstairs bathroom.

Ali did her thing, they lined up the tests on the counter, Ashlyn set the timer on her phone, and they waited, perched on the edge of the bathtub.

“I love you,” Ashlyn said suddenly. “No matter what, I’ll always love you.”

“I love you, too,” Ali replied, clenching Ashlyn’s hand.

The timer startled both. Knowing this was more for her, Ashlyn didn’t say anything as she stood, peering at the row of tests.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Ali asked without looking up.

Ashlyn spun around and swept Ali into her arms, kissing her soundly. She wanted to hold Ali to her for the next eight months.

“It’s okay if you’re scared, Alex. I’ve got you. I’ve got both of you.” Ashlyn pressed a kiss to Ali’s temple. “This is going to be the best Christmas present ever.”


	5. First Christmas as Parents

Ali had spent nine months planning Emma’s first Christmas. The family portrait they would send out in their Christmas cards, all three in matching outfits. The ‘my first Christmas’ onesies and pajamas and ornaments and snow globes and picture frames and anything else Ashlyn could buy. The three stockings hanging over the fireplace that Ali had insisted they build in their Florida home. The pictures with which they would spam their loved ones’ Facebook newsfeeds of their completely disinterested baby ‘opening’ presents.

Nowhere in her Hallmark dreams had Ali pictured her hair in the messiest of buns, wearing old Frankfurt shorts with spit-up drying on her back as she hustled between sick baby and sick wife.

“Shhh,” she murmured to Emma, who fussed on her shoulder. “Come on, sweetie. Your mama needs her medicine, too, but I can’t give it to her unless you let me put you down.”

In response, Emma’s whimpers and occasional cries turned into full-blown wails.

Ali strode up and down the hallway, rubbing her daughter’s back. If Ashlyn hadn’t been sick, Ali would have strapped Emma in the car and driven down the highway until she got to the Keys. Emma hated her car seat, but she slept in a moving car like, well, a baby.

(“When people say they slept like a baby, do they mean they slept for an hour then woke up screaming because they shit themselves?” Ashlyn had wondered wearily when Emma was a week old.)

Alas, Ashlyn was back in their bedroom trying to sleep off the stomach virus she and Emma had picked up, and Ali didn’t want to leave her, so instead she wore a path on the hardwood floor that she honestly couldn’t remember if she’d cleaned in the last week.

“You’re getting heavier,” she mumbled, wondering if it was safe to switch Emma from one shoulder to another. She had quieted in the last few minutes, hovering in the delicate place that Ali knew from experience would result in sleep as long as she wasn’t interrupted.

She eased into the nursery, moderating everything from her steps to her breathing. So far so good. After rubbing her back a few times, Ali lowered the infant into her crib, holding her breath until Emma let out a little sigh but kept her eyes closed.

“Sweet baby,” Ali whispered, frowning at her daughter’s red cheeks. She held a hand to Emma’s forehead, noting with relief that while still warm, her fever finally seemed to be weakening. The doctor had said the virus would simply have to run its course, nothing they could do besides treat the symptoms, but as a mother Ali hated nothing more than feeling helpless.

Even after four months, Ali occasionally still couldn’t believe she was a mother. She was living somebody else’s perfect life, waking up every morning next to someone else’s love of her life, with someone else’s adorable daughter cooing in the crib. Sometimes she was afraid to go to sleep lest she wake up and find it was all dream, to find she was still an irresponsible Penn State undergrad or a heartbroken footballer in a foreign country.

But it was all hers, the wife, the daughter, the house, the gold medals, the happiness, and so with one last glance at her baby to make sure she was sleeping soundly, Ali grabbed a basket of dirty clothes and trudged to her bedroom.

“Ash?” she called quietly into the darkened room, not wanting to wake her wife if she was still sleeping. No response.

She found her sitting on the edge of their bathtub, head in her hands.

“Again, baby?” Ali asked.

“Remember that time we both got food poisoning from that amazing Thai place in San Diego?” Ashlyn replied without looking up. “This is so much worse. There’s nothing even left in my stomach, Alex, I have no idea what keeps coming up.”

Ali rubbed her back. “I know, baby, I’m sorry. Here, take your temperature for me, would you?”

Ashlyn obediently opened her mouth, and Ali was pleased to read that, like Emma, Ashlyn’s fever was also dropping. While Ashlyn cleaned her face and rinsed her mouth, Ali brought her a Gatorade and Motrin.

“Back to bed for you,” she ordered.

“I can’t believe I’m sleeping away Christmas,” Ashlyn whined. “It’s my favorite holiday, our daughter’s first, and I’ve barely left bed.”

“We’ll have Christmas later, okay? I want the both of you healthy first. It’s been far too quiet around here.”

“Sit with me?” Ashlyn begged, patting the bed next to her. “I miss your pretty face.”

Ali snorted even as she took a seat next to her wife. “I look like shit, Ash.”

“You’re gorgeous,” Ashlyn objected softly. “The cutest girl I’ve known since 2010.”

“And before that?” teased Ali, pulling her wife’s head into her lap and brushing her blonde hair away from her face.

“I don’t remember life before you,” was the mumbled reply, making Ali laugh quietly.

“I think the fever’s affected your brain. You’re delirious.”

“Nuh-uh. I always know you pretty you are.” Ali laughed again while Ashlyn rolled to face her with a request. “Tell me about our first date.”

“Oh, you don’t remember?”

“I do. I just wanna hear it from you. It makes me feel better.”

It was rare that Ali turned down Ashlyn, especially not when her wife was ill. “It was supposed to be a simple dinner,” she began, a fond smile slipping across her face. “I wore that blue sundress you liked, and you …”

By the time she reached their aborted stroll down the boardwalk, Ashlyn was fast asleep, her mouth hanging open. Ali found her adorable. She took a minute to rest her head against the headboard, still stroking Ashlyn’s hair, but only a minute. Any longer and she’d fall asleep herself.

Gently extracting herself, Ali covered her wife with a thick blanket, and then fetched the dirty clothes that were scattered around the room, making sure to take the baby monitor with her. She didn’t want Ashlyn to have to wake.

Laundry, dishes, scrubbing the bathrooms … Ali did as much as she could to return their house to normal without causing a racket. It was late by the time she dragged herself back upstairs, nearly as worn out as her two patients. She checked on Emma, making sure she was warm but not too warm, and only headed for the shower once she was sure the baby was sleeping soundly.

(She had laughed at Ashlyn, who’d kept a flashlight on the changing table for a month after Emma was born to she could make sure Emma was breathing, often multiple times a night, but the flashlight remained.)

Ali barely took the time to brush her wet hair before collapsing into bed next to Ashlyn, turning up the sound on the monitor. She was asleep before Ashlyn rolled over and threw a leg over her.

~

Ali blinked once, twice, three times. Her first instinct was to check the baby monitor. When it proved empty, she quickly glanced at the space in the bed next to her, relieved it, too, was empty. Not that Emma could leave her crib, but still.

She yawned as she shuffled to the nursery. Emma had slept for a long time, which was nice for her mommies, but it was past her feeding time and Ali was surprised her cries hadn’t woken her.

She paused in the doorway to take in the sight in front of her of Ashlyn rocking Emma, speaking softly to the infant. It was a picture Ali never tired of seeing.

“Morning, honey,” Ashlyn said when she noticed her. “Did you sleep well?”

“Like a rock, actually.” Ali yawned again. “I can’t believe I slept past her feeding. Did you give her a bottle?”

“No, she hasn’t gotten too fussy yet. I woke up and came to check on her, and she must have wanted to chat with her mama because she opened her eyes right after I came in here. We didn’t want to wake your tired mommy, did we, little nugget?”

Ali smiled. “How do you feel?”

Ashlyn appeared deep in thought. “I think I’ve moved up to a 75 percent chance of living.”

“Well, that’s an improvement.”

“Yep, and I took Miss Emma’s temperature - she did NOT like that, but honestly I wouldn’t either - and she’s down, too, although judging by her diaper her insides are still unhappy. Surprised the smell didn’t wake you.”

As if to agree, Emma began to fuss and cry, and her moms shared a knowing look.

“Want me to make a bottle?” Ashlyn asked.

“No, I think I’ll feed her,” Ali said, switching places with her wife. “If she’s still hungry after, we can get a bottle.”

She settled in the rocking chair to nurse, and Ashlyn sat on the floor next to her, fascinated as always.

(Years later, when Ashlyn gave birth to their third child, Ali was shocked by the jealousy she felt at seeing the connection she couldn’t share with their son, and even more shocked that Ashlyn had so rarely let on to feeling the same way after Ali’s two pregnancies.)

Ali had struggled to breastfeed from the start, and she’d barely made it a month before it became necessary to supplement with formula. She’d been furious with herself but at the same time pleased that Ashlyn could share in the joy (and responsibility) of feeding. The doctor expected her to dry up any day now, so Ali cherished these moments.

They switched again to burp, and Ashlyn had barely started patting Emma’s back when she blurted out, “I’m sorry we ruined Christmas, babe.”

“Ashlyn! You didn’t ruin anything. I’m just glad I didn’t get sick, too, or we would have had to call in reinforcements, and you remember how your mom was after Emma was born.”

Ashlyn shuddered at the memory. “Don’t remind me. But you’ve been so great taking care of us that Emma and I decided as soon as I can make it through a day and keep a meal down, we’re getting you another present: a spa day all to yourself.”

Beaming, Ali stood up. “You know I’ll never turn down a pedicure, but don’t ever think you ruined Christmas.” She gave a kiss to each of the two most important people in her life. “I have my two favorite girls with me. Still the best Christmas ever.”


End file.
